February 26, 2007

Five Triumphal Gestures

 

                                                (For Alan and Geraldine)

 

1.

 

Last drops spread the leaves

dangers of exploitation

that blends and (as it were) fuses

mumming plays in royal England

 

geometry and music are not essential

(do not give as you are asked, nor

answer as you are questioned)

 

take them all

original patent

maddens the hero

 

Stand up you moron

onward loser!

gravity & music are not

 

essential either.

Last drops spread the leaves (see

above)

Light is an experience

 

in rural England

When chickens are cold

they save half

my effort [or she]

knows how [she is]–She is

 

Self-knowledge for whatever spectator

 

(suspected

goddess)

 

Mutual Cooperation Unit

only a fragment of whose earlier collections survive her.

 

Boredom is what I least deserve

or desire (he will be careful

not to say the word “decapitation” again!) re–

volt of the provinces of a lighter-than-air body,

 

which body

eats itself, or

grasps a microphone

for eternity.

 

 

2.

 

Who do you think you are?

 

rat & finch,

people just

watched. per-

 

cussor, as in

river-smooth &

waiting

 

(Pound-Note)

 

in the bag. eh what?

 

wife takes

the picture (almost

 

medical textbook, droll)

 

audience asks

wait a minute?

 

handshake?, if that’s

looking enough for you

 

then ding-a-ling.

 

(breathy

pause--

 

shaped

thinking)

 

come on.

 

 

3.

 

high hill

of my

old age/

endlessly

distracted

molecules

“drilling

down”

to the

individual

 

gradation

of grays

“but that’s

orchestration”

trundle along

the Boggard

path

 

yet I need

an aesthetic

immune

to art films

& engine houses

 

fragments

of a realm

beyond my

reach

 

mercurial &

sustained

provocations:

 

a Sassanian bowl, perhaps

a gryphon’s claw, perhaps

a Roman stone

bathtub

 

 

4.

 

Clarification of thought

by walking

 

The amputee doing

calisthenics in his door way

 

--“Do you have your ticket?”

--“I have the wing of a crow.”

 

 

5.

 

Beneath the wild

ferns by the bubble-

scummed creek,

John Keats opens

his webs of empty

flesh so the tap-

roots of the willows

find him, and

stones and clumps

of sticky dirt tumble

through him and

where light once

collided within the

tender lobes of

neural tissue, all

grows cold and clean

and clear.

 

 

We’d failed to video-

tape our luminous

dog, and even the

snapshots we’d taken

were focused

on a human-

centered world,

allowing John Keats

his skewed spot

off to the extreme

right or left of center.

Now even the photographs

in their fine leather albums

have begun to fade.

 

—Jesse Glass

 

Posted by dwaber at February 26, 2007 12:03 PM